Rust
by Graywhisper
Summary: Rust was born a tiny kit, her mother dying giving birth to her. But she is not alone. She has her father and his sister, and his sister's kit, Rascal, who was born, as it seems, the same time as she. With Rascal, Rust discovers a strange group of cats that call themselves ShadowClan. Little does she know, her fate and Rascal's is twined with theirs, for better or for worse.
1. Prologue

**Hi guys! This is another story I decided to write. Yes, I know another story now she has four stories and no complete ones bla bla, bla… But I'm really excited and I know I won't get anything done if I don't start this one. Bloom in the Storm has only two chapters I know, but I didn't get any reviews at all on my second chapter, so go review that if you want more… -.-" My one-shot challenge has six chappies and don't worry I'm working on the seventh. And for Graywhisper's, it's got over 20 chapters. I may post one more, but then I'll take a little break for a while, sound ok to you? I've got a little case of writer's block on that story. **

**Anyway, you know how when people design their cat, they think "Hey, do I want to be brown or black or golden or white or blue-gray, or calico, or tortoiseshell? (etc. etc.) I've decided that I'm going to make a cat for me for each of those categories. So those of you who have read Bloom in the Storm, Bloom is my white-haired form. Graywhisper is my main cat and my gray form. Get it?**

**This is the story of my russet cat. Hope you enjoy!**

**Rust **

_**Prologue**_

The wind howled in great gales. Snow whirled into the air, flinging onto the landscape and covering it in a powdery white blanket. All in the world seemed to be frozen and still, submitting to the triumphant storm.

But, it seemed, not quite all was still. A steely gray smudge could be seen in the distance, inching its way along. If you looked closer, the gray smudge was actually a cat, his fur and whiskers frosted in the tiny shards of ice.

He pricked his ears but flattened them quickly as the savage wind mercilessly pounded snow against them. Hissing irritably under his breath, he advanced forward, occasionally pricking his ears and trying to find a sound. When there was no sound to be heard, he went back to walking the path he memorized, keeping his paws firmly placed on the ground, no matter how much he wanted to rush forward.

For what seemed like moons, he took step after grueling step. He slowly made his way forward.

Suddenly, the tom pricked his ears and kept them pricked, despite the whirling snow. He had found what he was looking for. Above the high keening of the wind, the steely tom could hear another sound that deeply vexed him: the faint yowling of a female cat, obviously in pain.

Unable to contain his anxiety any longer, he gave into his instincts and sprinted ahead, unable to see anything thorough the snow. He used the growing-louder yowls to lead him in the right direction.

Finally, he made it to a small rock-den, the small opening stuffed with moss to keep out the cold. The tom could hear the yowling emanating from inside the rock-den, the sound making the fur along his spine raise in horror. He ripped the moss away and ducked inside, feeling tempted to leave the moss and rush towards the sound, but tucking it back carefully in the seam with shaking, fumbling, paws. He turned.

The rock den extended into a comfortable cavern. It was just the right size for a family or two. The gray tom had found it when his mate had requested a bigger den. The two had lived their comfortably.

The way down into the cavern was a series of stones laid in slabs, making a structure easy for walking up and down from the entrance to the den. The tom sprinted down the slabs, taking them four at a time. He rushed to the furthest corner of the den, stopping next to the nest of a copper she-cat writhing in pain, emitting the terrible yowls he had been looking for.

He pushed his nose into her copper fur, wishing he knew how to help a kitting queen.

There he sat, rigid, with his nose in her scruff for hours. Dawn came and passed, but the raging blizzard outside continued, its howling winds still audible above his mate's screams.

Suddenly, spasms ran down the copper she-cat's body, worse than the usual. The tom's scruff rose in fear, and he watched rigid as the copper she-cat struggled in pain. There was a loud scream- the loudest so far, and the tom's eyes widened in anxiety. Then, out plopped a kit, soaked in blood. The tom seized the kit and noticed the blood, continuing to flow. The tom raised eyes toward the roof of the den. _What should I do?_ He looked at the she-cat to find her relaxing, stopping her spasms.

He remembered the kit at his paws and began to lick. It was a she-cat, and he began to see her russet fur as he cleaned the blood, running his tongue opposite the direction of her fur to clean out all the blood. To his surprise, the kit coughed and mewled, struggling away from his tongue and towards the copper she-cat, where she lay, blood all around her. She looked up at him, her green eyes glassy.

Before he could react, the she-cat spoke.

"Frog." She mumbled, her voice hoarse and barely audible. "You came."

Frog felt a tear in his eye. "Of course I did Flower, I love you."

"I love you too." Flower murmured. "But it is my time to leave here."

Frog froze, then yowls sprang from his mouth. "No! Flower no! Stay with me. I cannot raise a kit! Some cat has to feed her!"

"You will figure it out, Frog. I have faith in you." Flower said, almost joyfully. "I will be watching over you from the heavens."

"But I don't want you up there! I want you down here, with me!" Frog wailed, his ears twitching.

Flower seemed to ignore his protests, looking down at the suckling kit instead. "Her fur is a beautiful russet, Frog. We got lucky." She muttered.

Frog said nothing.

"Her name will be Rust." Flower said. "It fits her."

"It's a beautiful name, but I want you with me as she grows up!" Frog cried unexpectedly. "You can't leave me! I need you! I love you!"

"Good-bye Frog. I love you too." Flower said simply, her eyelids slipping down to cover her dull eyes.

Frog sat back down, all the fight dying in him as he realized there was nothing he could do. He tucked his nose into her scruff. "Good-bye Flower. I love you. I'll miss you."

And that was where he sat as the life drained out of the copper she-cat and her body became cold. That was where he sat long after, all through the rest of twilight. That was where he sat, still as a statue, until he was roused into the present by a tiny mew of complaint.

_Oh yes. The kit. _Frog couldn't help but feeling a tiny prick of resentment for this kit who Flower had died giving birth to, but he quickly scolded himself. _How would Flower want you to treat her?_ Frog picked up the kit gently, with the utmost care, how he imagined Flower would want him to. He grabbed a bit of untainted moss from the edge of Flower's nest with his claw, than turned to another corner and placed some under the cold stone. Then he wrapped the kit securely in the corner, enough so that she was warm and comfortable and would not want to leave it.

Than he turned towards Flower's body, sad and lifeless without the warm spirit that it used to possess. Frog picked up Flower's body by her scruff, just as gently as he had done with the kit. He carried her outside and laid her on the clean snow, noticing subconsciously that the blizzard had stopped. The whole world seemed cruelly beautiful. _The world should not be beautiful if Flower is dead. _But it was.

Quickly, he cleaned the blood from her copper fur, so that it shone in the moonlight. He positioned her body in a position like she was just sleeping, than turned his back on her into a copse of nearby trees, frosted neatly with white powder.

He sighed and chose out a gravesite. The spot he settled on was a lovely place by a stream that bloomed with wildflowers in newleaf. It was over shadowed with the leaves of a huge maple and the draping fronds of a willow. Flower had loved it there. Frog began to dig past the soft layer of snow, fighting brutally through the hard ground until there was a hole deep enough that would keep Flower's body covered when the snow melted. No scavengers would get her.

He laid her gently in her grave, licked her ear and covered it with dirt and snow. He turned around and ducked inside the den without a second glance, his paws heavy with sorrow. He stayed long enough to grab the kit, still warm and safe in her tight cocoon of moss.

Frog exited the den and stared up at the big round moon, then at the stars twinkling beautifully in the sky. To Frog, one of them seemed to be the most beautiful of all of them, more beautiful than the moon. He shook his head, and began to think.

_Where can I take this kit? _He thought.

Suddenly he knew. He made sure the kit was wrapped snuggly and then scooped her up, ignoring her faint mews of protest. Frog then began to run. He headed toward a place he vowed he would never come back to, but now was not the time to think about that. Now was the time only for thinking about the kits survival.

His destination was far away, but it would not take the whole two sunsets travel if he ran his very best the whole way.

That was what he did. Frog sprinted along the frozen ground, his paws barely skimming the snowy drifts and leaving faint paw prints in the snow. This running had taken moons of practice, and he knew what he was doing.

The sun rose, slipping above the horizon and stretching pale pink fingers above the sky. Frog continued running.

The sun continued to rise, pulling back its pink fingers and making the sky blue, rising so it burned hot and bright, making Frog dizzy as he stared at the light reflected off the snow. He continued running.

Than the sun fell, taking the cheery blue sky with it. The moon rose, just as full as the night before. The blizzard did not come, though, which was lucky.

Through it all, Frog continued running.

Finally, his destination came within view. He spotted the collection of rocks that marked his sister's place. Trembling from exhaustion and lack of food, he stopped running and padded forward, hesitating briefly before walking into his sister's den. Her scent filled his nose, and he unsuccessfully tried to restrain his hair from raising. Her steely gray eyes met his, and she hissed loudly.

"What do you think you're doing back here?" She said, mewing lowly. She curled herself tightly around something.

"Let me explain, please, Oreo." Frog mewed desperately.

"What is there to explain?" Oreo hissed, her eyes gleaming maliciously.

"I have a kit with me." Frog whispered. "Flower died giving birth to her."

Oreo's hateful expression instantly vanished, being replaced by a guarded, reproachful, look.

"Let me see."

Carefully, Frog placed the kit on the floor and unwrapped her. Whining piteously, the small kit sprawled along the floor and into Oreo's warm nest, smelling the familiar milk-scent on her immediately. Rust began to suckle next to Oreo's own single kit.

Oreo's expression softened, and Frog knew his kit was safe.

"I'll take her." Oreo said quietly. "But you'd better find somewhere else to sleep and your own prey to eat."

"I will not leave her." Frog told her immediately. "Her name is Rust, and I cannot leave her. She's all I have left."

Oreo regarded him approvingly. "The first signs of a good father. Very well. You may sleep nearby, and come visit in the morning. Then, I will decide what to do with you."

Frog sighed in relief. "Thank you, Oreo."

"Don't get used to it."

**So what do you think? I thought it turned out pretty well. I hope you enjoyed, cause this was tiring. Review please! It would make my day! **

_**-Graywhisper :3**_


	2. Family

**Three reviews on a prologue! You guys are amazing! So here! I give you chapter 1! Enjoy! ;) **

**But first, some review replies!**

**Guest: Thank you! And the plot major stuff should be coming in around like chapter 5. **

**Hecobiza: Thank you! And yes, my writing is better than yours on my worst days. (burn… heheh :3) Yes, I like the name Oreo, too. That's why I picked it. :P **

**Moongazer13: Thank you! And technically, it wasn't two days. He sat vigil for Flower for one night, buried her early in the morning, then arrived at Oreo's that next night. So it wasn't two days, just one, though it was a little confusing, sorry! And for the Graywhisper's Journey idea, I probably won't skip ahead, though I'll take the insanity from Swanstar, thank you! :3 And possibly Graywhisper will ask that certain cat (If it is who I think it is) for the cure! Though I will not tell you how it ends. :3 Heh I feel devious today! :P **

**Now here's the story for reals!**

**Family**

Rust stuck her tail straight up in her excitement. She eyed Oreo's swishing black tail and stuck her flanks in the air, ready to pounce. She leaned backwards, and was suddenly pinned to the floor by- what seemed was- a black and white wall. She emitted a tiny mew of surprise. She regained her composure back almost immediately.

"Rascal!" She purred playfully, kicking his stomach until he let her up.

"Yes, Rust?" He asked innocently, batting his eyes at her. Rust rolled her eyes but couldn't help feeling amused.

"Oh nothing…" She mewed, turning her back on him and looking over her shoulder, mismatched eyes gleaming.

"What do you mean?" He asked, genuinely curious. He pawed her back with an outstretched leg.

Rust paused for a minute and looked at the floor until she knew Rascal was completely won over.

"This!" She crowed triumphantly, spinning around and tackling her friend. Rascal squeaked and surprise as he was pinned to the floor by the laughing she-kit.

"I win!" Rust proclaimed.

"Not so fast…" Rascal mewed slyly.

Rust barely had time to look down at the tom before he kicked out her legs from underneath her, causing her to fall on top of him.

They were both breathless, but Rascal began to laugh, his small kit-voice echoing around the den. Rust joined in, giggling at Rascal's contagious laughter.

Oreo looked down at the two kits fondly. "Would you like to play outside?"

Rust and Rascal nodded vigorously and pushed away from each other, shaking the dust out of their fur. They followed Oreo out of the warm den and into the crisp morning sunshine.

Oreo stopped in the shaded area just outside the den, which had a rock ledge hanging above. The kits walked farther, warm paws melting the thin slush from a few sunrises before and leaving space for lush winter grass to grow.

The clearing was open to the sky and framed by thick pine trees. The rock structures were big piles of stone that made easy pathways to the large smooth stones on the top. They soaked up the heat and made excellent places to nap on a cold day.

"What should we do now?" Rust asked, trying to think of something that hadn't done before.

"How about we climb this pile of rocks?" Rascal suggested, hopping up on the first stone, letting her know he wouldn't take "no" for an answer.

"Ok." She mewed, and hopped up next to him.

Rust began to grow unsure as they neared the top. The morning was misty, and she couldn't see the ground, which made her anxious. The old rock beneath her paws seemed crumbly and unstable compared to the stones near the bottom. Her hackles raised and her ears flattened subconsciously as she felt the danger. When she decided she couldn't ignore it anymore, she let Rascal know.

"Rascal?" she called. He was several stones away, as she had been taking it more slowly than him.

"Yes, Rust?" He seemed distracted, not in the mood for talking.

"Maybe we should head back down." Her voice trembled. "It doesn't feel very safe up here."

Rascal paused and turned to face her, a challenging glint in her eye.

"What, are you scared?" He teased.

"No!" She said defensively.

"Than quit whining and come with me to the top!" He exclaimed.

And Rust could not find a way to back out of it without Rascal calling her a mouse-heart or maybe something even worse than that! She hopped up, taking the stones faster in her rush to get to the top.

When they finally reached the top, Rascal laughed at Rust's frightened expression. At that point, Rust didn't care anymore.

"Can we go back down now?" She asked quietly as Rascal danced around the stone.

"Absolutely not!" Rascal exclaimed, pausing in his prancing to send her a phony mortified look. "We just got here! We need to enjoy ourselves for a bit!"

At this point Rust thought she might die. She curled up into a little fuzz ball and covered her face with her tail.

She felt a paw on her back.

"Rust?"

"What, Rascal."

"It's not so bad up here, you know." He tried to comfort her.

"Yes, it is." She answered flatly.

"No really, its not! Only mouse-hearts would think so!" He said, trying to trick her into uncurling.

"I'm not a mouse-heart, and you know it." Rust mumbled. "You do this when you see a spider."

Rascal flinched, but quickly gained his composure.

"Prove it." Rascal said. "Uncurl from that little ball of yours and look over the edge.

Rust's heart jumped into her throat. _If I don't do it, Rascal will never let me live it down. But if I do it, I'll die! _

Rust considered being made fun of by Rascal her whole life or dying.

She slowly uncurled from her ball and stood up, her fuzzy fur still standing on end. She slowly padded to the edge of the rock. Her paws shaking, she leaned over the side and peered over the edge.

The view was breathtaking! She felt like ruler of the world with the wind running through her whiskers, so high above the ground! And how far she could see! It was thrilling, and Rust loved the feeling. Wanting more, she leaned farther over the edge.

"Rust! Don't lean that far!" Rascal suddenly shouted, surprising Rust and making her lose her concentration. Squealing, she tumbled over the edge.

_Too much! Too much! _The drop from the ledge produced too much of the feeling, and Rust felt as if she had left her tummy and her heart behind her. Than she fully realized that she was falling, and her breath swooped out of her chest with a gasp. Rust couldn't think, she couldn't breath. All she could process was that the floor was coming closer. She couldn't even close her eyes. Rust knew it all would end, when suddenly; it didn't.

There she was, suspended in the air, her paws dangling above the ground, barely a mouse-tail away. Then she was suddenly aware of sharp teeth in her scruff, and attempted to twist her head around to see who it was. They didn't smell familiar, though they smelled a little like Oreo.

It was a steely gray tom with steel-gray eyes full of concern.

As soon as he saw her eyes, he gasped, opening his mouth and dropping Rust, though she was close enough to the ground that it didn't hurt.

"Rust!" He said. "Your eyes!"

Rust was confused. She didn't remember this tom at all, so why did her know her name? And sure, her eyes were a bit odd, ok more than a little odd, but didn't his mommy ever tell him that staring was rude? Oreo had told her that, and she was only two moons!

So Rust stared up at the big tom without making a sound.

He stared back, neither of them daring to move.

Until Rascal came hopping down the rocks, breathing hard, his flanks heaving with the effort of bolting down the rocks.

"Rust! Are you al-" Than Rascal caught sight of the big tom, stood frozen for a second, than bolted, shrieking "Oreo! Oreo!"

That snapped Rust out of her daze, and wordlessly, she followed Rascal, hoping the muscular tom wouldn't follow them.

She looked back to make sure, and stopped short, skidding on her paws as she tried to process the hurt expression on the tom's face.

There she waited until Rascal and Oreo came rushing down the path. Oreo looked like she would tear down the world if it was someone who dared hurt her kits. This made Rust feel slightly better.

But when Oreo caught sight of the cat, she stopped short and called out.

"Frog!" The cat's head snapped up abruptly.

"Frog!" Oreo called again. "When did you arrive?"

"Well.." The tom began. "I was here long enough to catch Rust as she fell off those rocks. And long enough to see her eyes."

Oreo was angry after that.

"Well, maybe if you had been here the moment you left her with me, you would have seen them open! There's nothing wrong with her, she's perfectly fine!" Oreo snarled.

"Sorry." The cat mumbled, abashed. "It's just, I wasn't expecting my kit to have one copper and one steel colored eye! And just the color of Flower's fur, too!"

Rust began to fell weird inside, as these adult cats were talking about her eyes, which she had never felt embarrassed about before. After all, she'd seen them in the reflections of the nearby river, but Rascal nor Oreo had treated her any different.

Also, this cat had waltzed into her safe place and called her his kit! Rust didn't understand. Oreo was her mommy and Rascal was her brother. This strange tom did not fit into her world.

"Frog, you're her father! I am not her mother! You shouldn't have taken off after that first night!" Oreo growled.

Rust's heart wrenched. Oreo was not her mommy? How could she say such a thing! This strange tom was not her father! Rust leaned back into Oreo's leg, not knowing what to think.

She felt Rascal's warm fur next to hers, and took a small bit of comfort from it.

Suddenly, Oreo's muzzle was by her ears.

"Go say hi to your father, honey. He is my brother, and he loves you just as much as we do." Oreo whispered. She pushed her forward, so Rust stumbled away. She looked behind her, and Oreo and Rascal were sending her encouraging looks.

Swallowing her fear, Rust soldiered forward a few steps, and then craned her neck to look up at the tom's face. As she came closer, his scent washed over him and she… _remembered. _No sights, but smells of blood and snow, wind in her face and the constant pounding of paws on the ground. The cold from the snow but the warmth from the moss. The death smell from a she-cat that must have been her real mommy. And most of all, the worry scent from this tom.

She cocked her head up at him, than ran forward and pushed her head into his leg.


	3. Frog

**Hi guys! If you want me to continue this, people, you have to review! I only got one review from last chapter (thanks mayosoul!) But the rest of you… -shakes fist- I will get you! :D**

**Mayosoul: Thank you so much! I'll be interested to hear it! And thanks for reviewing! –Hands Rascal plushy- :D Just for you!  
**

**Frog**

"Rust. Wake up." Frog's tone was hushed and clipped, softer than a whisper. "Come out of the den and meet me outside. Don't wake Oreo or Rascal."

Confused, but trusting Frog completely, Rust nodded and uncurled from her warm bundle, stepping around Rascal's sprawling limbs and stumbling outside into the gray of early morning. Unknown to her, steely gray eyes full of sorrow watched her leave.

"What, Frog." She asked sleepily, tripping on the last step out of the den. "I'm tired."

"Well, Rust." Frog mewed quietly. "You're three moons now, and I think it's time that we returned back to our old den."

Rust's eyes snapped open.

"What?" She screeched. She aimed a glare at him that demanded an explanation.

"Listen, it's not so bad." Frog mewed, desperation in his voice. You could tell how much he hated seeing Rust angry.

"So Oreo and Rascal are coming with us. That's the only thing that could make it better." Rust mewed defiantly.

"No." Frog pleaded. "But we can come visit sometimes, if you would like."

Rust glared some more.

Frog sighed.

"What would you like me to do, Rust?" Frog mumbled. "We cannot stay here forever. Oreo is not your mother. Rascal is not your brother, Heck; Oreo isn't even Rascal's mother either." Than Frog stopped dead and looked at Rust guiltily.

"What do you mean Rascal isn't my brother!" Rust shouted, not even hesitating for a second. "What do you mean, Rascal isn't even related to me!" They were more of demands than questions.

Frog looked down at his paws. "Listen, if you come with me, I'll tell you things."

This sparked Rust's interest, but she let a moment of silence pass.

"What kind of things?" She asked.

"Many things." Frog meowed, moving in on his advantage. "I promise you'll like them."

Rust considered her options.

"Fine." She said, unable to resist the curiosity. "I'm coming, but only if you promise that we can come back here lots. OK?"

"Yes, Rust, I promise. Now let's get going."

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On the way, Rust listened intently to anything that Frog said. They made slow progress, after all, Rust was only three moons, but it was well worth it- for Frog and for Rust as well.

"Well." Frog said. "Where do I begin?"

Rust padded beside him and stared up at him, waiting.

"Alright, I'll start with Rascal." Frog mewed, embarrassed. He didn't often speak more than necessary. "About the night you were born, Oreo was also giving birth, along with, with Flower." Frog stammered. "But, unlike Flower, she, she, survived." Frog's voice trailed off. He took a moment to recover.

"Well, Oreo's kits, they were, were still-born." Frog cleared his throat. "Which means, they were not alive when they were born. Frog averted his head. "Well, this made Oreo very sad, and, in her sadness, she decided to take a walk in the forest." Frog looked down at Rust to make sure she was listening. "Than she found Rascal, only a tiny, mewling kit. She took him in, as she had plenty of milk to spare."

Rust closed her eyes for a minute, thinking. "Who were Rascal's parents? Why'd they leave him in the forest?"

"I don't know, Rust. I don't know."

A long silence passed, while Rust mulled over these new things to think about, and sorted out her thoughts. Frog was content to wait.

"Well, what else are you going to tell me?" Rust asked, curious sparkle lighting up her mismatched eyes. "You promised to tell me lots!"  
So from that moment on, Rust listened, occasionally piping in to ask questions, as Frog talked about everything he though Rust would possibly need to know. He talked about the best way to catch prey, and other groups of loners. He talked about fishing, and climbing, and running. He talked about wild creatures, like foxes and badgers and wolves, and how you should always be careful near them. He talked about families and friends, enemies, landscapes, dens; anything you could ever think about. And through it all, Rust listened. She paid attention to every detail, no matter how small. She noticed Frog's feelings as he spoke. And trying her best to memorize the important things he said. Little did Frog know, Rust had an excellent memory.

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"And that's the best way to get a good view." Frog mewed. Rust yawned and paused for a moment to stretch, Frog patiently waiting a few pawsteps in front of her. Rust flicked her tail and darted up next to him.

"Anything else?" She asked, wanting Frog to continue.

A long moment of silence passed, Frog turning his mind over and over for a story that might please his eager daughter.

"One more." Frog mewed. "I bet we'll be home once I'm finished."

Rust nodded and waited impatiently for Frog to begin.

"When I was very young, I lived in a two-leg nest. I used to be a kittypet, when I was very small." Frog paused.

Rust waited for him to start up the story again. She'd already heard this.

"This two-leg nest had a tall, wooden, fence that bordered the yard. On either side of the fence, there were two other two-leg nests. But on one side, there was a beautiful forest." A dream-like expressions crossed over Frog's face. "At nights, I used to sit on the top of the fence, Oreo next to me, and stare out there. It called to me and Oreo, in a more powerful way that the others were oblivious to, even my mother. My other siblings, Charm, Twig, and Print, made fun of Oreo and me for sitting there each night. My mother watched on but did nothing to stop it."

"One time, I asked my mother about my father. He said that he was a wonderful, brave, tom, who lived in the forest. I asked is we could visit him." Frog shook his head. "She said no, of course. She said that the forest was an awful, evil, place with huge cats that would murder you if they saw you. That scared me into going into the forest, but, I never stopped watching it at night. As I grew older, I realized my mother was ridiculous, there were no crazy wildcats out there! So one day I jumped off the fence and wandered into the woods, Oreo calling for me to come back, and calling me awful names. I didn't care, my curiosity was overwhelming."

"As I wandered deeper into the forest, I began to pick up a peculiar scent that stood my fur on edge. It told that there were cats near by, many cats. I followed it, my curiousness making me stupid. And I stumbled upon a hollow, laid over protectively with pine boughs form the nearby trees. I poked my head inside and was greeted with dozens of hostile cats that sprang at me with their claws unsheathed. I turned and ran, instincts taking over, but they were much faster than me. They got me, scratching me with their wicked claws and making me bleed. It was the worst pain I'd ever known. One big tom jumped on top of me and hissed, "Leave ShadowClan territory and never return. I got up and ran, back to my two-leg garden, leaving blood behind me in a trail. Oreo was waiting for me, Charm, Print, and Twig rolled onto their backs laughing their heads off."  
"You stupid tom, Oreo called me, you should know it isn't safe there." Frog paused, snapping out of his reverie. "I never went back into the forest again."

The trees above them suddenly gave way to an open sky, the path leading to a wide clearing with a few rocks stacked on top of each other."

Frog smiled and said, "Welcome home."

**I hope this chapter satisfies you guys! I know I enjoyed writing it! Tell me if you want me to make a separate book for Frog's life, as he is one of my favorite characters and I absolutely adore him! Maybe I'll write it anyway. Who's your favorite character?  
**

_**-Graywhisper**_


	4. Prophecy

**Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? :D Sorry. Apologies to everyone, but I hope an update will make you happy, and hopefully, you will forgive me! I've been starting to try to figure out a schedule for writing, but updates will probably be delayed. You know, the usual busy from school and family. **

**Mayosoul: Sounds like an interesting cat! I like the purple eyes. **

**Robinpaw: Maybe once I finish I'll do that! It sounds like an interesting story to try to figure out. But I have another idea for a story that I'll maybe put out there when I finish one of the other stories, maybe Bloom in the Storm. That one shouldn't be too long, but long enough. Also, Rascal and Oreo are black and white. Oreo is black with white paws and her tail is speckled with white. She has steely gray eyes. Rascal is mostly white with black speckles along his back and some spots on his face. He's got blue eyes, I think, but I'm not entirely sure. It's hard to come up with what characters look like, you know, forever… **

**Guest: Glad you like it! I will continue trying to make each chapter just as good. And I actually didn't know, thanks for telling me! I don't know if I'll be able to get it as soon as it comes out, my parents probably won't let me. -.-" They don't take my Warriors adoration seriously. **

**Guest: Like the guest above, I'm glad you liked my story! Also like the guest above, I didn't know, thanks for telling. I'll get it as soon as I can! **

**Growing **

_**-2 moons later- **_

Rust was 5 moons now, and almost as happy as she thought she could ever be.

Emphasis on _almost_.

There was an empty spot inside of her heart that ached and throbbed whenever she thought about Oreo and Rascal. They'd been her only family for half of her kithood, and there was no way she could forget them anytime soon. Rust thought she would _never _forget them. She missed the cozy den and the warmth of Rascal beside her as she slept. The motherly care of Oreo and Rascal's boisterous mew. Frog was the good fatherly sort, but there was no way he could be the kind of friend that Rascal had been.

But when she wasn't focusing on that, Rust was usually busy learning. Frog had told her much on the journey home, but now she had an itching desire in her paws to _know_. To be the strong, experienced cat that her father was.

She'd told Frog this, and he'd been more than delighted. Thrilled, even, that his kit wanted to learn, and from him, no less.

But, the road to success wasn't easy, as Rust soon learned.

Frog would wake her up early to go hunt. After they'd hunted, he'd teach her other things, like climbing trees or how to fight. Rust liked these lessons the best. It was an altogether different sort of glee when you could flip backwards or best your father in a spar. Rust was a quick learner, and Frog was an excellent teacher, full of patience and love for his young daughter. He knew that someday she would need these skills, and someday she would leave him. Someday, he wouldn't be there to protect his baby from the world. The thought tugged at his heart, and he forced himself to abandon the thought to the back of his mind. But that was always how it worked.

For now, Rust was content. And that was all that mattered.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Frog, what's that smell?" Rust asked, wrinkling her nose. Today he'd taken Rust farther through the woods than usual. They'd been walking silently, senses open, when Rust had detected an unfamiliar, unpleasant, odor.

Frog raised his nose in the air and pricked his ears, instantly on alert. Than his hackles raised and his tail puffed put to twice its size.

Rust was immediately worried. Frog wasn't scared of much, and the smell must be something to be afraid of. Something to really be afraid of.

"That's the smell of other cats. Other loners, like us." Frog's usually quiet voice had dropped down into a whisper that Rust had to strain her ears to hear. "I don't know if they're hostile or not, but we had better return home before they find us."

"But you promised to teach me a new battle move today!" Rust protested loudly.

Frog smacked his puffed tail across her mouth.

"Hush, Rust." Frog snapped, still managing to keep his voice to very quiet whisper. "We must keep quiet, unless you want to be found."  
Rust looked up at her father, not fully comprehending the urgency. She spat his tail out her mouth and tried to get the fur out of her mouth without making much noise, which only succeeded in making her look ridiculous. Frog looked on, shaking his head slowly. He got Rust's attention and set a brisk pace through the woods, back home. Rust shook out her thick, dark fur, and followed, having to run to keep up. There was something in her father's eyes that left her speechless and shocked. Her father was truly scared.

XxXxXxXxX

What could it mean?

Darkpelt closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cool stone of the medicine den.

What did StarClan want from her?

It was dusk, and the sun was setting. The medicine den was cool and dark, perfect for thoughts to tug on her focus and abandon her herb sorting to bang her head against the wall.

What could it mean?

She hadn't received her full name more than a moon ago, and only because her mentor had died. Darkpelt hadn't felt ready to have her full name, and had no idea what to do now. Everyday it was the same routine. Collect the herbs, sort them out, put them away, deal with warriors, deal with kits, deal with elders. It was a busy sort of life, and when Darkpelt needed to think, she always found some sort of tedious chore to keep her paws busy while her mind swirled.

"Darkpelt, what are you doing?"

The medicine cat sighed inwardly and wished she could bang her head against the wall, for real this time, and not just to shake up her thoughts.

"What does it look like I'm doing, squirt?"

"My name isn't squirt and you know it. It's Berrykit."

"Whatever you want to call yourself, squirt."  
"Darkpelt! Why are you in such a bad mood?" The kit complained.

"Hmm. Maybe it's because an obnoxious kit has walked into my den when she's _supposed _to be in the _nursery._" Darkpelt responded dryly.

"How do you know if I'm supposed to be in the nursery?" Berrykit mewed.

"I was a kit once, too." Darkpelt responded. Not too long ago either.

"Maybe things have changed since you were a kit." Berrykit said testily. "Or maybe I just get special treatment because I'm going to be a _medicine cat _some day."

Darkpelt ground her teeth together, her stomach twisting in rage. She shoved her face harder against the stone wall.

"How do you know, squirt?" She managed to force out.

"Because I want to be." She said indignantly. "Pebblecreek says I can be whatever sort of cat I want to."

Darkpelt's misty eyes squeezed together.

"And I spend enough time in here anyway, so why wouldn't Nightstar let me be the medicine apprentice? The spots open now that crazy old Badgerstripe is dead, and now that you've got your name." Berrykit continued.

Darkpelt had had enough. Her eyes snapped open and she twisted to face the kit.

"You knew nothing about him." Darkpelt growled, glaring at the kit with everything in her arsenal. "You do not know how much suffering that "Crazy old cat" went through. His whole family and every one of his friends was dead. You think it's easy being the medicine cat these days? This is war, Berrykit, and cats are _suffering. _Cats are _dying. _Our Clan is the _smallest. _ShadowClan is _losing, _Berrykit, and you have the nerve to speak about that cat and be grateful he's gone to StarClan? Everyday, cats would carry home other dead cats than collapse themselves from wounds they carried. We do not live in a favorable world, Berrykit. I am a full medicine cat who is _9 moons old. _I do not have the patience to be a mentor, and you don't have the stomach to be my apprentice. I'm not old enough to have an apprentice anyway, and I don't want one. So if you dare to say _anything _bad about Badgerstripe; remember this: he was a better cat then you will ever be."

Darkpelt snapped her mouth closed and continued to glare at the kit. Half of her was morbidly interested in what she would respond with.

Berrykit, frozen with fear and shock, snapped out of her trance and scrambled backwards a few steps.

"I'm telling Pebblecreek." She said, and flipped around, her paws skidding on the stone on her rush to be out of there.

As soon as she was out, Darkpelt crumpled to the ground, the prophecy pounding through her head once more.

_Two from beyond will come, but only one will be the one. That which stains will purify the Clans to their former glory. Not all is as it seems, so do not judge at first sight. If Shadow chooses not to heed my words, all will come down and the Shadow will be lost for generations to come. Shadow must trust each other or all efforts will be for naught, the path will not be easy, one mistake may bring the future toppling down on your heads. Without the one, you will fail, and chaos will reign. If the Clans will heed the one, peace will reign for longer than ever before._

Darkpelt shakily got to her paws, and limped slowly out of the medicine den. It was official. She must tell Nightstar. She couldn't contain the prophecy by herself.

Cats stared at her as she emerged into the deep inky blackness of the night. She'd been lying on the floor for longer than she thought.

She could feel Pebblecreek's eyes boring into her neck as she passed the nursery, probably for the awful scare she'd given Berrykit. Darkpelt didn't care. Pebblecreek could go to the Dark Forest.

She stiffly inched into Nightstar's den, and the young black leader raised her head. Not even the old ShadowClan leader had made it through the war, and the young deputy had become the young leader, much too early for anybody's taste. You could clearly see that the stress was breaking her.

"Yes, Darkpelt?" Nightstar was perfectly alert, and though she was supposed to be resting, it was clear she hadn't been.

"I have received a prophecy from StarClan."

Nightstar was instantly on her feet. "I've been waiting for this, Darkpelt. Aid is being sent our way!"

Darkpelt winced. "I don't know, Nightstar."

The leader's expression darkened. "Let me hear it."  
Sighing, the medicine cat sunk to the floor, knowing the prophecy would drain the energy out of her.

Nightstar listened attentively as Darkpelt spoke the words with a voice that seemed to rasp and rattle like any elderly cat. The words held real power, and Nightstar knew that if she could command ShadowClan right, the Clans would be saved. Even as Darkpelt passed out on the floor, Nightstar's heart lifted with hope. She exited the den and bounded onto the Highstone in one smooth motion. She pointed her nose to the stars and they seemed to twinkle brightly, just for ShadowClan. Nightstar would hold this bizarre hope in her heart until she won or until she died in the fight for peace.

**So? How'd you like it? I thought it turned out pretty well. You guys ready for excitement next chapter? The beginning is a little fast-paced, but that's ok, right? Action is always good. Anyway, I'm a bit tired now. A review would make me the happiest girl in the world! They may even inspire a quick update. After all, the stories with the most reviews update the fastest, am I right? **

_**-Graywhisper **_


	5. Tragedy

**I realize that I haven't updated Bloom in the Storm, but I really wanted to write some more of this. The action happens here, yes? **

**The Last Moongazer: Yes, it is sadly true. People don't like to write as much when people aren't reading their story. Come up with a good description, hmm? Anyway, glad the prophecy was acceptable. I was trying to get my point across without making it too clear. I actually have the plot of this story mapped out for a ways, which is different from the rest of my stories, heh. **

**Mayosoul: It is a change from usual stories. I feel a bit sad when people have written 20 chapters and only have two reviews… I'm glad my stories are interesting enough to hold people's attention. And interesting about the purple eyes… they do appeal to me though, whenever I'm designing a character. **

**Hey guys, would you like me to write out ShadowClan allegiances? Or should I just let you guys have it organized in your mind as you meet them? It should be a relatively small Clan though, so you guys decide. **

**Away**

"Rust!" Frog's voice stirred Rust in her sleep.

"Wha." She mumbled, only half-awake.

"Rust, get up!" Frog's voice was sharp, commanding, and loud enough to coax Rust into a sitting position.

"Rust, get up right now!" Frog's voice was firm, but it had no edge. He couldn't bring himself to be any sterner. Rust was still only 5 moons.

Luckily, the tone he used seemed to be enough to get the young kit on her feet.

"What?" She said again, this time more clearly and with a hint of exasperation in her tone.

"We need to leave, now." Frog's voice was low and urgent. "Those cats we scented earlier have come closer."

Rust fixed her father with an impatient glare. "I don't see why that matters. You can shred them, right dad?"  
Frog's eyes twinkled with affection. "Sometimes it's better not to pick fights. There are a lot of them, and while you are learning quickly, you do not have enough strength behind your paws to injure them."  
Rust narrowed her eyes. "I'm not weak! I can shred any cat who tries to hurt me!"

Frog sighed. "No Rust, you can't. Let's not be foolish."  
Rust huffed indignantly but followed Frog as he left the den.

The morning was beautiful. It was a cool day between greenleaf and leaf-fall. The leaves were just beginning to change, while grass was still soft and springy under paw. Rust suppressed the urge to roll around in it.

Frog led the way to a small trail leading through the woods surrounding the clearing they lived in. Rust jumped up and pinned an orange leaf to the floor, but her heart wasn't in it.

"We have to leave here forever?" She asked her father.

"It depends if the other cats decide to stay there or not. We cannot overpower so many cats at once." He murmured. It seemed he was not so happy to leave Flower's grave behind.

Rust sighed. "I'll miss this place." She meowed.

Frog nodded in agreement but said nothing more about it.

"Where are we going now then?" She asked, unable to keep her curiosity down.

He looked over his shoulder before answering. "We're headed straight to Oreo and Rascal. We have to warn them about the other rogues, in case they head to her, too."

"And then what?" Rust asked, her paws bouncing from the news. She would get to see Rascal and Oreo again!

But Frog did not answer; instead he stuck his tail out in front of Rust to stop her. His fur puffed out twice its normal size, and Rust felt a cold fear inside of her.

"These rogues are smart." He mumbled. "Smarter than I thought." With visible effort, he smoothed out his pelt and sat down, his ears pricked.

"What's going on, Frog?" Rust asked.

"The rogues are here, Rust." He said, than pulled her in close next to him with his tail.

Rust was too frightened to protest. Instead she shrunk into her father and pricked her ears, watching and listening for movement in the surrounding forest.

They sat there for what seemed like ages and ages. But Rust didn't dare to move, not even a whisker. Frog was still as a statue.

Than there was a flicker of shadow in front of her. Both cats swiveled their heads in that direction.

A raspy laughter crashed over Rust's ears, and she fought the urge to cower.

Where the shadow had moved, Rust could see a dark tabby step out of the shrubbery. His pelt was ragged, his face covered in scars, and his ears torn to shreds. You could see by the way he held himself that he had fought many battles and, as it seemed, won more than he lost. Rust narrowed her eyes and felt her claws slip out. Frog didn't move.

The tabby strolled down to the two, his gait confident and careless.

"Well, well, well. So these are the two cats that have been living in _my _territory." He purred in a silky tone, continuing to strut around them. Rust could feel Frog stiffen even more.

"Have you got anything to say for yourselves?"

There was a silent moment, and Rust decided she had to take the plunge.

"Many things." Rust spit out, hardly believing she had just said anything to this intimidating tom.

"Oh?" The tom said.

"Yes." Rust mewed, snapping the words. She could feel Frog tensing with horror even more beside her, but she knew she couldn't stop now.

"What could a little she-kit like you have to say to a big tom like me?"

"First," She mewed defiantly. "That you're obviously a fox-heart, judging from the way you carry yourself and the way you talk."

"Is that so?"

"That's what I said." She mewed. Than she rushed ahead without giving him another chance to speak. "Second, since when was this _your _territory. Last I checked, _we_ were here first!"

"Oh really?" The battle-scarred tom shook his head and laughed his raspy laugh, causing Rust to shudder. He stepped closer to Rust, and held out a paw with unsheathed claws. "You have some attitude, you do." He meowed slowly. "But maybe it's best you learned some _respect_." Than the tom lifted his paw and swung it towards the she-kit. Rust was too paralyzed by fear to do anything but squeeze her eyes shut. There was a _whoosh_ of air, and Rust felt nothing. Suddenly there was a shriek and a _thump_ and a lot of hissing. She slowly opened one eye to find _Frog _tussling with the tom on the floor.

Rust felt elation and pride in her heart, only to have it quickly replaced by worry and fear. Would the two toms fight to the death? While Rust _needed _Frog to win, she didn't want to see her father kill another cat.

Round and round the two toms spun. Frog was on top, then the rogue, than Frog, then the rogue. Than Frog pinned the other cat down, and the two struggled for a moment, but it seemed Frog had won.

"Cats!" The rogue cried. "Attack!"

Then pelts from everywhere around them were flooding into the clearing. Rust felt the press of the cats as they completely ignored her and surrounded her father, jumping on top of him and ripping him off their leader.

Frog did not take this quietly. He snarled and ripped free of their teeth and claws, slashing his claws across throats and downing several cats. But he knew he would not get out alive. There was a break in his defense and cats jumped on him, pinning his paws against his sides and forcing his head down. He snarled and Rust got a clear view of just how bad her father was hurt. There were claws down his belly and his ears were nicked. He was covered in blood. Rust felt pangs of sympathy, and, for once, felt happy to see all the dead cats Frog had brought down before he had been overpowered. She shivered as she watched the rogue approach her father, more marks down his flanks.

"So." The rogue hissed. "It seems you could not overpower as many cats as I have." He grinned. "It seems it is your turn to join the dead cats."

Frog showed no fear. Instead he looked for his daughter.

"Rust." He rasped. "Run."

The rogue snarled and with a swift motion slashed his claws over Frog's throat.

Frog's gaze never wavered from his daughter. "I love you, Rust. Live well, I will be watching you."

Than Frog took a last, gurgling breath, and was still.

Rust unfroze from her fear and looked at the circle of rogues that remained as they looked at her. She took a few, hasty steps forwards, and darted past them, all of them too surprised to make a move to stop her.

Rust whipped through the forest, barely dodging the trees as they streaked past her vision. The forest around her began to blur, and Rust realized she was crying.

That was it, then. Frog was gone, his life ended with a single swipe of claws. He wasn't running next to her, he wouldn't be there next to her to protect and guide her.

Frog's life was over.

Rust began to shake with sobs, and she focused all her energy on not breaking down in the middle of unknown forest, and running straight. Maybe if she could just remember her path, she could reach Oreo and Rascal.

So Rust continued until her legs were aching and she felt numb all over, inside and out. She was sure there were bramble scratches all over her. Her pads felt broken, and every step hurt.

Rust realized that she couldn't make the whole journey in one go. She was only five moons, after all, and not even the numb shock could force her to make the whole journey.

So she got her tired muscles, with some difficulty, to slow down and step lightly over the leaves. She hunted, and managed to get a vole scurrying around some tree roots. She devoured the prey, buried the bones, and crawled underneath a spiky-leaved holly bush to sleep.

The next morning, Rust woke up early, hunted again, and then started on her endless running. Then, when she could not go forward anymore, she'd stop, hunt, and sleep. She did this for several days, when she spotted a familiar structure; a tiny point of rock, poking above the forest. Her heart filled with hope, and Rust redirected her course to go through the forest, and hopefully through the clearing that Rascal and Oreo lived in. She slid into a faster run, her pads itching with the desire to see Oreo, who felt like her mother, and Rascal, who was her best friend.

Than she ran into the clearing, and fell over with relief, her paws slipping on the leaf mold in her desperate relief. Shakily, she climbed to her paws and slowly walked over to the crack in the rock where Oreo and Rascal slept.

"Oreo?" She called softly. "Oreo?"

The black and white she-cat raised her head and looked up at the entrance, the moonlight shining in her eyes. "Rust?" She called. "Is that you?"

The russet she-kit smiled with relief. "Yes." She said simply. Than she slumped against the stone.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Rust!" An excited voice called. "Rust!"  
Rust blinked open her eyes sleepily. Was it time to keep running? But no, a black and white tom was in front of her, bouncing up and down with excitement.

Rust cocked her head. "Rascal?"

"Ya Rust, it's me!" he cried joyfully. "You're back!"

Rust nodded. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Oreo wrapped her tail around her son and tugged him away from the she-kit. "I need to talk to Rust for a little bit, Rascal. Why don't you go outside for a minute?"

Rascal glared at his mother before stomping out of the den.

"Farther." She called.

There was a sigh from outside as Rascal padded farther away.

Oreo was by Rust in an instant. "Where's Frog? What happened?"

Rust let the words and memories tumble through her brain for a minute before responding.

"He's dead, Oreo. Rogues found us and killed him." Rust mewed, and tried to hold back her tears.

Oreo seemed distraught, but quickly gained control of herself.

"We need to leave right away."

**What do you think? And once again, would you like me to type out the ShadowClan allegiances, or would you just prefer to remember them as you meet them? Like I said before, it's going to be a relatively small Clan. And also, have any of you read Yellowfang's Secret? Oh my gosh, I frickin **_**hate **_**Foxpaw! (No spoiler zone for her warrior name, is any of you guys want to read it or are reading it) Stay awesome!  
**

_**-Graywhisper**_


	6. A Safe Place?

**Now, all of you must think by now that Rust is indeed a Mary-Sue and that her story is pretty much Firestar's. Well, you are all WRONG. This is where it takes an interesting twist. If you ask me, I feel a little sorry for Rust… and Rascal. But not Oreo. :P**

**Moony: Indeed he did. **** He was actually the first cat I though up for this story. Did you know at first it was going to be a one-shot, but now look at it. :D I'm very pleased with it, though. XD I update so fast. Anyway, I have decided there won't be any allegiances, unless people start requesting it like crazy. Allegiances suck to type out, and I hate it. **** I promise, there won't be that many characters to keep up with anyway. :3**

**Moondust: Nope, they really were rogues. Yes, I freaking hate that stupid Foxpaw. I laughed when she died… :D Anyway, I'll take your cat into consideration. I don't know if she'll have a place in the story, but she might. So maybe, but no promises, okay? :3 Oreo doesn't hate Frog, just kinda resents him in a way for reasons unstated in this story. If I ever write a side-story for him, I'll say, but for now, I won't. :P **

**Magek: Hmmph, I don't know if Night will be able to fit here. I could write a one-shot for him, though, if you're so insistent… though maybe I'm not so inclined since you wrote Graywhisper's Doom…**

**Rain: Thanks! I do quite miss Frog, really. **** He was one of my favorites. Frog didn't deserve to die, you're quite right. And all the other cats didn't deserve to have their family member die. **** Sadness. I will keep writing! Forever! :D**

**Chapter Six**

Rust looked at Oreo. She just stared at her. If Oreo though that Rust was going anywhere near that two-leg den, she had it all wrong. No. No way. Never.

Oreo returned the stubborn she-kit's stare. She was going in that two-leg nest, and there she would stay.

Rust lashed her tail, looking at Rascal, frozen next to her, caught in pure panic at the sight of the two-leg den. No, no way. Oreo wouldn't do this to them. Rust would protect Rascal, too, and they would stand up against Oreo, and convince her to turn around and take them home. This was not their home. This would never be their home.

They looked at Oreo. Oreo looked at them, neither side budging. Rust stared. Rascal stared. Than Rascal stood tall.

He raised one trembling paw. Rust held her breath. He wouldn't, he couldn't…

Rascal took a step towards the den.

Rust's eyes narrowed to slits. So he wouldn't help her. Rust remembered how Frog had told her all about two-legs, and how they weren't to be trusted, ever. They fed you dry food that looked like rabbit droppings and only let you outside at certain times. Rust couldn't stand it. She wouldn't do it. With or without Rascal, she was going back to the rock den, the safest place she had ever known. Her true home.

She looked into Oreo's eyes just before she was about to bolt away.

That was the mistake.

She turned and made it three tail-lengths before sharp teeth dug into her scruff and yanked her back, off her paws.

Devastation crashed down on her like a wave. No, no, no. She couldn't. She wouldn't. Rascal watched, panic rising, as Rust let out a heart broken wail.

It was over.

Rust didn't even struggle as Oreo carried her towards the den. She knew it was over. She'd be stuck in this stupid two-leg den with a bunch of two-legs and no freedom. Over. Her life was over. She was silent, her metallic eyes shining. It was over. Over.

She looked over her shoulder at Rascal, following quickly behind Oreo, his head down. Rascal had no sense. None. At all.

Rust looked straight ahead, silent and stoic. She wouldn't speak. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't beg. It was over. She would face it like Frog. A lump rose in her throat. If Frog were here, this wouldn't be happening. If those other cats hadn't come, this wouldn't be happening.

Why had everything gone so wrong?

Oreo leapt up to a ledge sticking out from the side of the den. Rust stuck out a paw, curious beside herself. Her paw met a cool, smooth, surface that she could see through. It puzzled her, she didn't understand. She didn't like it.

Back to nothing. Rust would do nothing. She would face it all silently.

Oreo placed Rust down beside her, knowing the kitten was done. Knowing Rust wasn't going to move. She meowed and pawed the smooth material, creating a thudding, wobbly, noise, that made Rust's hackles rise. She forced them down. Nothing. She would show nothing.

The motherly black-and-white she-cat pulled her son up next to the copper kitten.

Nothing. Rust would show nothing. Not to Rascal, not to anyone.

Rascal pushed against her, kitten fur fluffed out in obvious fear. Rust did not react. Nothing. Nothing.

There was movement on the other side of the smooth, translucent surface. White pelts covering the other side were flung aside, and the face of a two-leg was up against the window. A two-leg child, her face lighting up as soon as she saw the mother cat and her two kittens.

She ran away, long hair streaming out behind her. The white pelts swung back in place. Rust was bristling, her nothingness forgotten at the appearance of the child.

There was a noise behind the family of cats. Rust turned, eyes widening. A whole group of two-legs. The same two-leg kit, two adults, and another kit. Rust didn't like it. She didn't like it at all.

The kits squealed happily. One of the big two-legs reached out and scooped up Oreo, paws running down her spine.

Oreo _purred. _

Rust was beyond the point of shock. Again harsh reality was thrust in her face. She looked at the clear material.

Soon she would be on the other side, looking out.

Just as she thought, hands reached out, picked up her and Rascal. She bristled. She hissed. She thrashed and clawed. Beyond scared. Beyond reasonable. Beyond caring.

As soon as her claws came out, she was dangled in the air by her scruff, dismayed cries of the two-legs not phasing her in the slightest. This is what it came down to. Whether or not she escaped, made her way back to where she could be happy. This was it.

The two-leg holding her kept walking, Rust thrashing around madly, instincts taking over. No, no, no. It could not, would not, happen.

She stopped when the two-leg holding her stepped into the open den and it closed behind her, sealing her inside with a thud. She just stopped. It was completely over, over forever. This is where she was stuck. Stuck.

The two-leg released her and she bolted away, seeking cover in the first dark place she could find- a shadow under a huge, puffy thing that she didn't trust in the slightest. Of course, this didn't give her any moments of peace. Little two-leg paws wiggled their way under the couch, reaching for her. Caught up in fear, Rust bristled more, fur radiating away from her until she resembled a hedgehog.

And she knew it would only go downhill from here.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Darkpelt had had it. Each day became more and more stressful on the young medicine cat, Nightstar and Berrykit and the Prophecy putting pressure on her every minute of every day. If it hadn't been bad enough when she'd kept to herself, now it was horrid. Berrykit perpetually grinding down her nerves, Nightstar making her think so hard her head felt hollow, and even her own conscience always slipping back to the Prophecy every time she tried to think of something else. Her dreams were full of mysterious warnings and the silvery pelts of StarClan warriors.

She hated it.  
Darkpelt had always hated the squabbling, the arguing, the worries. That's why she'd become the medicine apprentice. The herbs soothed her, made her feel like she was doing something productive even though she wasn't battling. Cats had always respected the medicine cat, even if they never talked to anyone or rarely left their den. The war had always frightened her, the wounded warriors padding back to camp in the dead of night always concerning her. It was a different sort of worry, one that she knew she wanted to fix, that she could fix. When she felt bravest, she's even strayed into the medicine den, where Badgerstripe had welcomed her, showed her the ways of the medicine cat. He'd been one of her best friends, even though he rarely acknowledged anyone else. He made her feel special, like she wasn't useless because she didn't want to fight so much, like her brother. He'd made her feel like she had talent, like she could be someone worthwhile.

Then he died.

Darkpelt knew he was old, but she wasn't prepared for the day when her dear mentor went to sleep and never woke up. She was heartbroken, only to have Nightstar nudge her off to receive her full name that day. The whole journey had been miserable, and she'd hardly remembered anything. The StarClan cats had promised her that her role was important, given her a full name, and left without another word.

It was all so confusing!

Darkpelt cracked open one of her eyes as she heard pawsteps in her dark den. Standing up, she called out. "Who's there?"

The tiny squeak that Darkpelt knew oh-so-well responded quickly. "Darkpelt, when are you going to show me how to do medicine cat stuff?" Berrykit whined.

"Never." Darkpelt growled, every drop of patience leaking away at the sight of the cream kitten. "Leave me alone. You are not prepared for anything the medicine cat life has to offer."

"Hey!" Berrykit mewled indignantly. "Pebblecreek says I can do anything I want to do when I grow up! She told me _you _started _your _training when you were a kit!"

"There was a medicine cat that was willing and ready to take on an apprentice." I hissed. "I'm not willing nor ready, and I also was a _quiet _kit that could _focus _without making the medicine cat want to bite my head off!"

Berrykit scowled, unbothered. "I can focus when I need to! Pebblecreek says it's good to ask questions, too!"

"What does your mother know about being a medicine cat?"

"My mom knows more stuff than you!"

"Then how come I'm the medicine cat and your mother isn't?"

"Cause she didn't want to be the medicine cat!"

"Unfortunately. Cause if she was the medicine cat, than she wouldn't have given birth to you."

Berrykit scowled even deeper. "She says that I'm the best thing that's ever happened to her!"

"She's required to say that. She's your mother."

"She would say that even if she wasn't my mother!"

Darkpelt was done. "Berrykit, you know being a medicine cat is all about wanting to help other cats. You'll never get battle training or be a normal part of society like everyone else. All the other cats will respect you, sure. But do all the cats respect me? You know the answer to that. Some do, most don't. Some that don't include you and your whole entire family. Why should I take you as my apprentice? All they'll do will congratulate you. And you yourself? All you want is the fancy position and the respect. You couldn't care less if the cat your caring for lives or dies. That's why I don't want you as my apprentice. You don't care, but I do. You know who delivered you and your siblings? Me. It was me. Pebblecreek and I have never been friends. Never. She always looked down on me for choosing the medicine cat path. Yet I was the one who made sure she survived her first litter. And you know what that gave me? You. Best repayment ever."

Berrykit was silent, and the older black she-cat turned around, just wanting to be left alone, like usual.

She was relieved when quick pawsteps told that Berrykit had left the den in a hurry.

**So what did you think? I really enjoyed writing this chapter, even though it may have been a little overdramatic, heh. What do you think of the sudden kittypet life for Rust? Or Berrykit's continued escapade at being med apprentice? Hopefully another chapter or one-shot or whatever of mine should be coming out soon, though I have nothing prewritten, at all, so don't get your hopes up. :P**

_**-Graywhisper**_


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